


In The Eye of a Hurrikaine

by Be_Right_Back



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, BAMF Mace Windu, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurrikaine Crystals, Kyber Crystals, Mace Windu Appreciation Day, Mace Windu Appreciation Day 2020, Mix of Legends and Canon, Palpatine dies, for real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:22:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24342709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Be_Right_Back/pseuds/Be_Right_Back
Summary: In the eye of a Hurrikaine, there is quiet. The storm that rages around, however, is anything but silent.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 92
Collections: Jedi-Friendly, Mace Windu Fandom Safe Space





	In The Eye of a Hurrikaine

**Author's Note:**

> It's short, it's bad, but dammit I *will* post stuff for Mace Windu Appreciation Day. The fandom needs to accept that he is badass af *and* an amazing and compassionate Jedi. I love him, okay? Hopefully I'll have more stuff up before the end of the event.

_The crystal is the heart of the blade._

_The heart is the crystal of the Jedi._

_The Jedi is the crystal of the Force._

_The Force is the blade of the heart._

_All are intertwined._

_The crystal, the blade, the Jedi._

_You are one._

* * *

Crystals focus energy. They bind it, channel it, give it purpose. Hearts – emotions, feelings – focus the Jedi. Drive him, give him a goal. The Jedi focus the Force. They are conduits, allowing it to flow free and cleave evil from good, shadows from light. And therefore, hearts are the crystals of the Force as well.

Emotions flow through a Jedi’s blade, become part of it. It is taught in the Order, understood by the youngest Initiates. _Do not fight with an angry heart, Padawans. Do not give in to fury, for your crystal is not made for such feelings. It will become unbalanced, unreliable. It will forsake you in your rage._ _You will be alone, and you will lose._

Hurrikaine crystals are different, an exception to that advice – or so it is believed. They pulse with a fire harder to temper, easier to fuel. They are more dangerous, wilder – they are more powerful too, but only for the one who can harness such passion and bend it to his will. Anyone else will get swept away by the storm.

_Passion, yet serenity._

Mace Windu’s blade shines bright purple and gold, hilt lined with electrum and heart ablaze with an amethyst flame. His emotions and the Force are one. His love of justice, his righteousness and his lightsaber are one. And that night, when darkness and hatred and pit-black evil cloy the Living Force, Mace Windu forgoes the wise advice of those who came before him with tame Kybers. He becomes the storm, his anger and his outrage crystal clear, hard as diamond against the murky fog of his enemy’s malice. He allows the hurrikaine to swell and thunder, to encompass everything.

 _Anger leads to Hate, Hate to Suffering. The path to the Dark Side_.

For others, that is very true. Others have not tamed hurrikaines, and they have not tamed themselves. Mace looks at the darkness from above and is untouched because he remains hollowed out, completely empty of self-motivation or desires, completely empty of ambitions. He is simply his crystal, and his blade, and the Force binding them all together.

In the moment, he _is_. And like a storm over Ryloth, like the winds of Tatooine billowing above the desert, the storm creates its focal point and Mace is the eye of his hurrikaine.

The Sith will never return. The Winged Goddess wrestles with the Fanged God and her claws tear through his flesh beyond the mortal realm. Gross matter has no say in the ending of this battle, swordsmanship is never a factor. The hurrikaine tears Sidious apart, and when the storm fades away only Mace Windu remains, a statue of smooth stone in his unassuming brown robes that temper the golden hilt and the burning blade. He is grounded in the Light, immovable, and the Force weeps for joy and relief around him – focused by him, the Jedi. Triumph soars in the soundless melody, the galaxy dancing with it.

Mace feels all this, and remains serene.

_Emotions, yet peace._

The victory is not his, and he will not rejoice in the death of anyone, not even the embodiment of perversion. He has not _won_ any sort of grand cosmic game. The Light is the Light, and he is its servant, and his duty is done. When the guards come and he is taken away, the hurrikaine is silent.


End file.
